


The Tortured Vessel

by Beano



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex, Lucifer Redemption, OC, Protective Lucifer, True Vessels, Vessel Trauma, basically therapy for me, so kind of a unique outlook on the issue since im sharing acctual memories?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-15
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2019-10-28 19:07:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17793056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beano/pseuds/Beano
Summary: basically, Lucifer (Satan) needs a strong human vessel and the only one available is a little girl's. the reason her vessel is so strong is cuz she went through sexual abuse- and when Luci finds that out, well, he's pissed. When looking at Satanism, even he is against rape, especially that of a child. So instead of pursuing his plan to take over the world, he makes it his goal to be friends with the little girl, and destroy the one who did it.and it turns into this whole thing where, yeah, he takes over the world, but he redesigns it in a way that the little girl can have a paradise.





	1. Prologue

Jumping from vessel to vessel was getting exhausting, and leaving a trail of bodies in his wake, and almost certainly catching the attention of his brothers and sisters, as well as their beloved Winchesters. The perfect vessel was out there, he was certain of it. Sam Winchester was, of course, the perfect vessel, but there can be more than one, yes? All he had to do was find the man who could hold him.

He leapt out of the vessel just in time. Had he held on to the woman any longer, her body would’ve exploded. Lucifer had decided to resort to a more… peaceful strategy, one would say, whilst he was on his search for the perfect vessel. He could feel he was getting closer to it, and this was the last home on the street. He watched invisibly, his gaze falling on the one vessel he had yet to try. And then he felt it. This was the vessel, but- it was a little girl? She couldn’t have been older than six, and yet her body was strong enough to hold himself, the rebellious archangel? He frowned, corporally, of course, and engaged with the girl.

_Hello._ His voice echoed inside of the small child’s head, and she jumped.

“H-hello?” A small squeak came out of his perfect vessel.

_I am an angel, and I can help you._ The girl obviously needed his assistance with something, as shaky as she was.

“Y-you can? You can tell him to stop?”

He hesitated, tempted to ask for specifics, but he would see when he entered his vessel. _Yes. All you need to do is invite me in… Just say ‘yes’_

“Yes!” She answered without question, surprising the fallen archangel as he filled his vessel.

The girl collapsed on her bed as Lucifer filled her body, her mind, and her soul. Her mind was a peaceful one, pure, untainted- 

He turned towards his right and saw what had made his vessel so strong. And he knew that he would destroy it.


	2. The Tortured Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer explores his vessel's mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you attempt to criticize the way I depict this sort of PTSD, please keep in mind that, I, myself, am suffering from it. Also- there will be bits of graphic scenes in this, and if you think this is the best thing to beat your meat to, please fuck off. Thanks!

Usually, he would take joy in examining his true vessel's mind. His favorite parts to look at were the bad memories, something to entertain himself with. He'd look over these with a grin on his face, but this time, he was sure a grin would never cross his face again. He looked at each memory, each a television screen on a loop. These moments have passed for the perpetrator, but each day the vessel relived this torture over and over.

His fingers lightly touched the first bad memory of a thousand, and he found himself shaking in anger as he saw the vessel learning. Learning about things she shouldn't have learned until at least 5 years later. He felt a light brush on his pants, and he looked down, seeing his vessel.

On the outside, his vessel was perfect. Prim and proper to what seemed to be the core. Every fingernail trimmed to perfection. The perfect 8-year-old. But on the inside, one could see who they really were, and all Lucifer could see was a bruised, mangled mess. He looked at her with a feeling he hadn't felt before. Pity, he had felt, yes, but also a sort of... responsibility. He went to hug the girl, but she scurried away the moment his knees began to bend.

He fell to his knees, looking at his hands. He had done this to the child. He had mangled her. He had ruined her. If he hadn't been so jealous of the humans... if he hadn't brought sin into the world, she would be happy. She could be a child.

His hand curled into a fist, and as he looked up he saw another memory. It looked to be quite recent, in fact... the vessel was wearing the same outfit today. He saw the same boy that he had seen in the first memory and was a bit confused as to why he wasn't in the house. Why hadn't Lucifer seen him yet? He watched as the horrors unfolded, the sick boy having the vessel strip herself of her underwear and ride on his bare back as if he was a horse. And this wasn't even close to being as horrendous as the rest. He watched as he heard the car pull up, recognizing it as the car he had driven as the vessel's father. The memory ended with the boy leaving through the back door, and Lucifer knew where he would go next.

He turned towards the vessel again, watching as she sobbed, "I liked it, I liked it!"

New scars formed as she screamed out these words. He felt a tear drop from his eye as he watched. He wanted so desperately to hug her, to apologize for the sin that he had brought into the world, but he didn't want to damage her anymore. And her body looked ready to crumble.

And so there they were. Satan, crying as he gazed at the mangled girl who was only hurting herself more and more by remembering.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed. And remember, if this turns you on in any way, please seek help and make sure you never visit my stories ever again. <3
> 
>  
> 
> Also, I'm aware that this is short, but this is more of a journal for me to find therapy in rather than a story. And before you ask, yes. I have lived that memory.


	3. The Tortured Body

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, this is for my own therapeutical purposes and unique insight on PTSD, NOT to beat your meat.

The dirt wouldn't come off.

No matter how hard Lucifer concentrated on cleansing his vessel, the dirt seemed to be permanent. Eventually, he resorted to more brutal tactics, attempting to scratch it off with his nails. He could feel the vessel's soul inside him cringe and immediately stopped.

"Sorry." He muttered, gaining no response.

Normally, Lucifer would appreciate the silence. Most of the vessels would talk constantly, a bit of silence was rare and valued. It was different for her, though. Lucifer felt worried when she was silent, even though she had said nothing to him since he possessed her. He made his way towards the house's bathroom, gathering up all of the soap he could find and resorting to a mortal way of cleansing. He turned on the water, and almost went to strip his vessel before he stopped. He went back to the vessel's room, finding one of her swimsuits and lending control back to her.

The girl took no time in getting into the swimsuit and retreating back to the corner of her mind. Lucifer came back into control, heading back to the bathroom where the water was running and getting into the shower stream. He scrubbed and scrubbed, using every bottle of soap that he had gathered, but none worked. He sighed, getting ut and returning the control back to the girl so that she could get dressed. He went down the stairs, exiting out the front door when he saw the Winchester's and their attack dog.

The Winchester brothers didn't seem to think it was him at first, but a growl from Castiel informed them otherwise.

"Really, Lucifer? A child?" Castiel brandished his angel blade and thrust it towards Lucifer.

"Don't!" Lucifer exclaimed, "Don't hurt her."  
  
Castiel and the Winchesters frowned, confused by Lucifer's care for the human that he was in control of. The soul was quivering in his vessel's mind, and he repeated himself.

"Why do you care?" Dean demanded to know.

"I just do, okay? Now, move aside boys, I have somewhere to be." He started to walk forward when he was lifted off the ground by the tall one, and he scowled. He didn't want to do anything that would hurt her in any way.

Sam looked at him, "You give up just like that?"  
  
"No," He scowled, "I will keep her fighting."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My own rapist is coming over today (I chose not to press charges because... he's family), so this was much needed for me.


	4. Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I've decided to update this every time I get a flashback.
> 
> The vessel is now much older because I found that her being that young isn't right for me. It happened to me ages 6-13, and if I want to portray flashbacks, she'll have to be 14. 
> 
> There's no story to this, again it's mostly therapeutic to me.

Trust.

Trust is dangerous. If you trust someone, you expose your weakness.

The vessel trusted somebody, and he drove a knife through her youth.

She didn't learn. She kept thinking; somebody out there must be kind. 

Most of the time, people pitied her. They dumped their pity and ran, leaving her to carry the weight herself.

But then somebody stayed. He stood by her side as he took more and more of the weight of her trauma. She told him everything, and he listened to it all. She took his burdens, helping him out as he had helped her.

Then he left, leaving his burdens with her and watching as they crushed her into the ground.

 

He forgot.

The girl rose back up again and confronted him after a year, and he didn't know who she was.

He crushed her and threw her away without a second thought, and he couldn't care enough to remember. He ripped open her already shredded body, and not one drop of her blood phased him.

 

Her bath was her safe place. She felt warm, safe, and cared for. But then she remembered. She foamed at the mouth, gagging and spitting everywhere in disgust. Her surroundings blurred around her, a phone flickering into existence, leaning against the shampoo bottles and capturing every thrust of the toothbrush, giving her no pleasure but giving him everything. Toothbrush.

Toothbrush.

Toothbrush.

She clambered out of the tub, knocking the shampoo bottles over in fear. She dripped onto the floor, the once clean water turning black with her filth. She was filthy. Filthy. Filthy. Filthy. She fell to the ground, sobbing as she wrapped herself in a blanket, toothbrushes dancing around her. 

 

 

Lucifer shoved the shelf over, hissing in anger. There would be no toothbrushes in paradise.


End file.
